Sir Cadogan's Tale of Woe
by SpacesInMyMind
Summary: Everyone's favorite (or rather, least favorite) talking portrait tells all in his humorous tale of woe. Written for the QLFC Round 10 Thanks to my wonderful betas, Sanchita and Rowan!


QLFC Round 10

Kenmare Kestrels

Beater Two

Prompt: Write about someone whose soul is captured in a magical portrait (Sir Cadogan)

Optional Prompts: 1) sinking 6) " _Please_ tell me you're being ironic." 7) tree

Word Count: 1693

BETAs: Queen Bookworm the First, RainyDaysAndGoodBooks

-0-

Sir Cadogan liked to think of himself as a good man. After all, it took some serious gumption to vanquish the Wyvern of Wye, sit at the Round Table with King Arthur himself, and to sire seventeen children. _That_ accomplishment was a personal favorite of his.

Despite all of his close encounters and brushes with danger, the spineless, mewling excuses for students at Hogwarts poked fun at him rather than praise his mighty heroics. Which were very heroic heroics indeed, he might add. The Wyvern of Wye would cry from laughter if one of those pudgy baby-faced sprogs stepped up to challenge it. Perhaps it would simply die from shock.

Sir Cadogan hadn't been digested in the dead carcass of the Wyvern to watch as pug-faced, snotty-nosed boys tapped at his portrait with their wands.

"Why won't you do anything?" one young boy asked, prodding at the painted figure of Cadogan's corpulent pony. The pony didn't object, too engrossed with the grass before its nose to notice.

"Do anything?" Cadogan screeched, brandishing his sword at the insolent youth. The blade's weight tipped him forward, and it plunged into the earth. Tugging at the sword's hilt with all of his strength, Cadogan tried his hardest to look fierce while the young boy hid his sniggers behind his hand. "I've slain the Wyvern of Wye, scurvy knave! What brave feats can you claim, eh?"

The boy squinted and leaned so close to Cadogan's painting that his ruddy nose nearly touched its surface. "What's a Wyvern?"

If Cadogan had been sitting on top of his little pony he would have toppled off of his saddle. As it was, he fell onto his metal-clad backside with a _clang!_ "What's a Wyvern? A Wyvern, the scourge of modern-day Britain! One look at its scar-riddled hide would wash your trousers with your own urine!"

"Oh-kay, too much information." The boy stepped back a pace, still looking confused. "I'm pretty sure your idea of modern-day Britain was, like, a million years ago."

Rubbing his sore behind, Sir Cadogan stood and continued to pull at his sword, which remained stubbornly stuck in the mud. "Youths like you not knowing about a Wyvern… 'tis a real shame."

The boy snickered behind his fingers. "Did you really just say 'tis?' That's old school, dude."

Cadogan gave up on the prospect of retrieving his sword and let it sit there like a crooked hobnail in the dirt. "Would you like to hear my tale of woe, boy? Stuck in this school for eternity, while foolish lads and lasses singe your portrait with their wayward spells?"

"Well, I'm going to be _so_ late to Divination, but that's not really a crime." The boy shrugged, smiling with a flicker of mischief in his eyes. "Yeah, let's hear it."

Cadogan beamed and started to pace, his ill-fitting armor clanking and clattering with every step. It made quite the musical score for his dramatic monologue, and he felt swept up in the moment.

"My handsome mare gallops across the countryside, flanks heaving and matted with sweat. Wind rushes through my armor, buffeting my hair behind my visor. Oh, what a time to be alive! Picture me, the brave knight, wand a-ready, with my trusty sword in hand." Cadogan cast the sword a poisonous glance. The sword did not respond.

"Suddenly, a gale of wind tosses me from my mount. We both soar to the sky like the good Lord's angels, until my mare is devoured in one gulp. He vanishes into the Wyvern's gullet with nary a neigh of protest."

The boy's eyes widened to the size of saucers and he sat down promptly. "Devoured in one gulp? For real?"

"For real!" Cadogan echoed, waving his gauntlet at the boy. "I saw but a flash as it passed, but what a horrifying flash it was! My vision was blocked by the beast's hideous maw, tears of flesh dangling from its serrated teeth like ribbons! Alas, my poor mare was no more."

"Merlin's baggy Y-fronts!"

"I can assure you, Merlin ne'er wore anything of the like. Although he did sport a particularly horrendous pair of yellow tights once..." Cadogan frowned, confused.

Scooting closer to the portrait, the boy clenched his fists with excitement. "And did you kill it? Well, did you?"

Cadogan hadn't had an attentive audience in centuries, so he smirked at the boy and placed his hands on his hips. "That's _Sir_ Cadogan to you, sprog. King Arthur himself knighted me, and you'd better recognize that fact or I shan't go on with my tale!"

"Yeah, and Dr. Pepper really has a doctorate," the boy muttered. "Please, continue. Er, _Sir_ Cadogan."

With a flourish, Cadogan continued with his pacing, nearly bumping into his fat little pony. "This is where my friend here comes in." He nudged the pony with his toe, and it snorted in response.

"Can you actually ride it? I always thought its legs would fall out from under it if you tried." The boy flashed Cadogan a cheeky grin.

"What are you insinuating, lad?" The knight flushed a brilliant scarlet.

"Well, y'know, you're not the lightest… What with your armor and all, I mean!" The boy scrambled to amend his statement as Cadogan fumed.

"If you must know I _can_ ride him, thank you very much. Back to my tale of woe, then? I raise my wand to hex the Wyvern into oblivion, then I notice there's quite a lot less of it than I remembered. The blasted beast had taken a nibble out of my weapon! Nobody takes a nibble out of Sir Cadogan—besides my three wives, that is."

The boy's face paled a deathly white. "Okay, _way_ too much information. How did you defeat the Wyvern, then? It sounds like you're in rather dire straits now."

Cadogan winked at the boy, leaning against his sword and crossing his ankles, as casual as you please. "Straits were never dire-er, my boy. I mean, more dire. You know what I mean. My brazen self decides if I can't slay the beast with magic, I'll at least have the pleasure to send my iron through its heart. But as I raise my sword above my head I realize that it, too, is melted to the hilt."

"Please tell me you're being ironic. See what I did there? Iron, ironic… Ha ha…" The boy trailed off, noticing the dark expression on Cadogan's face.

"Laddie, I'd rather face a Wyvern any day than hear your pathetic excuses for jests." Cadogan was still propped against his sword, not-so-subtly tugging at the grip. The blade didn't budge an inch.

The boy rolled his eyes when Cadogan wasn't looking, but this beat Divination any day. "Er, right. Point taken."

With a heavy, melodramatic sigh Cadogan continued his story. "One thing people will tell you, boy, is that Sir Cadogan is a coward! They say I ran from danger that day, fleeing the Wyvern's rage in a desperate attempt to save my feeble soul!"

"So, what really happened?"

"I ran from danger, fleeing the Wyvern's rage in a desperate attempt to save my feeble soul."

"Ah."

Cadogan hobbled over a few steps and pointed to the fat little pony, who gave the boy a baleful glance and continued chewing its mouthful of grass. "As I hopped the fence into the next meadow, cursing my sorry self, I espied this pony standing mere yards away! The sinking feeling of defeat left my limbs at once and in one deft motion I leaped onto the pony's back and charged for the Wyvern!"

"Seeing as it just kicked your arse, why would you go back?" The boy tilted his head to the side in confusion. This Sir Cadogan was either ridiculously brave or ridiculously stupid—probably both.

Nodding his head sagely, Cadogan patted the pony's flank. "I can see why one of a lesser mind such as yours would wonder about this. As I was running through the meadow, my melting visor dripping onto the grass, my boots caked in horse dung, I realized that this was not how I was going to die. The melting visor and horse dung, perhaps, but I would rather die burned to a crisp facing my enemy than running like a yellow-bellied knave."

The boy leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. "That's… surprisingly wise, coming from you."

"I urged the pony toward the Wyvern, whose mouth was gaping wide like a doorway to hell, but perhaps with more teeth. I prepared myself to meet the Lord and threw myself through the beast's jaws."

"What?" the boy interrupted, looking thoroughly befuddled. Cadogan couldn't imagine why.

"What, what?"

"That's the most foolhardy plan I've ever heard! How would tossing yourself into the Wyvern's mouth help you kill it, or even damage it? Were you hoping to become reincarnated as gingivitis or something?"

Cadogan huffed. "Well, I must have done something right, because when I was, er, _expulsed_ , the Wyvern exploded."

The boy frowned, giving Cadogan a suspicious glance. He didn't want to know what the knight meant by expulsed, and he doubted he ever would. "Just like that?"

"Precisely as I've recounted it for you!" the knight affirmed, and the pony nickered with what sounded to be disbelief.

"Well, I don't know about spontaneous combustion," the boy noted as he stood, dusting off his robes, "But Professor Trelawney will give me a month's worth of detentions if I don't have a good excuse for being twenty minutes late to her class. I should go. Thanks for the tall tale, Sir Boast-A-Lot."

Cadogan bristled, brandishing his fist at the boy's retreating back. "This _Tree-Lawney_ will rue the day she heard of Sir Cadogan! Why, you mandrake mymmerkin! You cox-comb, you…"

The pony raised its head momentarily and fixed Cadogan with a knowing glance that he could easily translate into, _he's right, you know._

With a sigh, Cadogan collapsed to the ground and rested his helmeted head against the hilt of his sword. "What does slaying a Wyvern get you these days, huh? A painting and ungrateful lads. Well, I guess it's just you and me again, worthless nag. As always…"


End file.
